Dedicate loyalty to the good empire

Chapter 139 The Resurrection of the Greenskin Leader

Is this possible?

Theoretically, if the spine of a vertebrate creature is damaged, it would be difficult to perfectly reconnect the body even with the most advanced technology, let alone in just a few hours?

But in reality, the plasticity of the Zerg's body was combined with the green-skin cells, and with the help of a green-skinned mad doctor who was brave, careful, and particularly thoughtful, it was obvious.

The green boss is resurrected.

The first moment he regained consciousness, he felt angry and smashed some of the insects that stayed here to devour the green-skinned corpses into mud.

Now, his thick bones and unique, plant-like mental system pumped adrenaline in anger.

The other greenskins, in a rage of hormones and waaagh, began to quickly repair his wounds.

This is the Greenskin, the most unique and insane creature in the entire galaxy.

Taylor just felt that he was extremely stupid. He actually thought that this guy was a fragile being like humans and that he would definitely die if his body was broken.

But obviously, they don't admit that the greenskins will die like this. To be precise, they think the greenskins will not die like this.

Taylor felt extremely embarrassed about this, because he really felt revenge and pity for the greenskin. Those aliens deserved to die. After all, they might draw their swords against him one day!

He vented his anger on the bug in front of him. When his blade cut off the warrior bug's head, he realized what he had done.

He's taking a risk, and that's not right!

He immediately returned to Frenstein and prepared to make plans to quickly clear out the enemy who had invaded the trench area.

He picked up his plasma gun and handed it to his comrade with the best shooting skills in the class, Miss Lightling.

And, Ferenstein began to move forward.

Wherever that vehicle arrives, the Lightlings will shoot and rot the heads of those arrogant warrior bugs.

Taylor, Roland and other brothers formed a small trench safety zone, and quietly expanded the safety zone outward, quickly regaining most of the area.

Now the ground is littered with the corpses of loyal Imperial Guardsmen and the remains of insects, but people still gather around Taylor, as if victory can be achieved as long as this man is still here.

Taylor wanted to retort, but he just flashed his signature smile, which was trained by old Tychus, and tried to bring hope to those people.

Even if it's fake.

All this until a nasty Genestealer crawls out of the shadows and tries to kill Tyler!

Taylor instinctively drew his weapon, his trusty Likart knife.

In an instant, the swordsmanship he'd acquired from countless near-death experiences and his time in the Planetary Guard came to him almost instantly, relying on muscle memory. He drew his weapon, and the sound of the blade cutting through chitin was like cracking ceramic.

Everyone present heard it, clear and bright.

When the Genestealer's body fell to the ground, people could no longer suppress their cheers and joy. They were convinced that this man would definitely bring victory as expected.

Taylor was swept up in this unfounded public opinion and began to organize a counterattack. First of all, this was the northern war zone of the empire, and the enemy chose to attack here probably because it seemed to be the weakest guarded.

Secondly, according to current intelligence, the entire camp is facing an attack from the Zerg, and many companies are obviously unable to take care of themselves.

The absence of the Carcharodon and Emperor's Children also testifies to the harshness of the current situation.

Perhaps, killing the tyrant could be another way out?
Of course, the guarding force here only looks small, because the greenskins are affiliated with Taylor, so the number of people here is reduced.

At the same time, the greenskins like to run around everywhere, so it seems that they don’t have much protective power, but as soon as the fight starts, the greenskins will come out from the cracks in the rocks.

This actually caused the Zerg to lose a lot of strength.

Obviously, old Tychus did it on purpose, playing the victim into a trap, which is why he was so indifferent when Taylor asked for help.

It's hard to evaluate this guy. In most cases, he treats Taylor almost as his own child, but on the battlefield, he would rather treat Taylor as a consumable.

Taylor was naturally not worthy of such kindness. He faced this arrangement with pain and indifference, and proved time and time again that old Tychus's vision was not wrong.

Of course, when it comes to selecting a standard Imperial Guard soldier, his vision isn't very good.

After all, Taylor is not only in cahoots with the Greenskins, he even has unclear ties with the Chaos Forces and the Necrons.

If the judge had not guaranteed his loyalty, who knows if he would have been shot long ago?

He was still thinking until the greenskin boss's shout interrupted his thoughts.

“Boss! Boss~…”

Taylor sighed. How could he be so mentally ill and psychotic since he had just escaped death?
Taylor tried his best to ignore him, but soon, a huge shadow told Taylor why the greenskin was shouting so happily.

It was a huge and deep shadow, born from the long-lasting rage of the Great Devourer and the disgust it felt at being defeated time and time again.

That was a Swarm Lord, a node creature.

Light blue fluorescent substance flickered in its eyes, and its dark pupils and ferocious head showed the punishment it was given every time it returned from its nest.

Anger, shame.

Its sharp limbs have terrifying tearing claws, and its huge body is almost 7 meters tall, which is more terrifying than a standard Terminator armor.

Taylor nearly suffocated, though much of it was because its damned huge body emitted a strange stench, probably the one Taylor had described, similar to the smell of dirt.

And then there was that fear, he said tremblingly.

"I'm really sorry for knocking your head off last time..."

This sentence obviously ignited the tyrant's anger, and he let out a sharp roar.

It must not be a beast, perhaps a language expert. Although it cannot speak, it also needs to understand the language logic of the enemy, so it eats many humans to read the wisdom in them.

It was even fluent in High Gothic, the Orcish dialect, and the elegant and interesting language of the Eldar, but it was the first time it had heard such words from a mortal.

If it weren't for the concept that Low Gothic is a phonetic language, it might really feel like it had heard something wrong.

After all, he was just a mortal, and without his damn strange steel vehicle, this man was just something that it could easily crush to death!
Now the tyrant has begun to think about how to kill this human, precisely because humans are too easy to kill, by trampling, crushing, and hacking?
But when it made up its mind, it saw a flash of light gathering outside its eyes, and it recognized that thing.

Hot melt!

It instinctively swung its arms and hit the melta gunner. After all, it had seen the giant executioner being dissolved by that thing more than once.

But when it struck, the inconspicuous mortal commander burst out with inexplicable strength and almost cut off his own hand with the inconspicuous long knife in his hand.

The Tyrant roared angrily, dodged the molten heat, and for the first time took his opponent seriously.

He is not a sacrifice, he is prey.

Taylor cursed tremblingly at this moment.

"Roland! If you survive today, you won't have dinner! You even missed the target!?"

For Taylor, starving soldiers of food was probably the harshest punishment.

What's more, it's dinner. Being hungry at night is torture...

(End of this chapter)